Breaking Bad
by Hack Generation
Summary: In which Desmond somehow becomes an inmate at a maximum security penitiary along with an inmate that rules the corrupted place with an iron face. Desmond needs protection, who will give it to him?. multii-chap 1 shot/ fic battle with ColdHiddenBlade/ Prison AU/ MalikDes
1. Desmond-Who-the-What-Now?

_This is a fic battle between me and ColdHiddenBlade! Check out her stories they is **the shizzle!**_

_Onward and Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Malik Al-Sayf. A a war veteran amputee serving 25 years in prison for assault and killing of 3 men during a bad episode of PTSD. The men happened to be Templars. The one-armed Syrian refused to plead insanity, he's a proud man and his mother didn't raise a liar. Jury sentenced him guilty of all charges.<p>

Malik is sent to a maximum security prison, nobody has the balls to mess with him. Except Altair of course. But that idiot is given parole and leaves early after a rather harsh ass kicking from the vet.

Desmond Miles. A top bartender at the most popular night club Bad Weather. He's easy on the eyes and has a punch, that most violent drunks swear, rivals Floyd Mayweather and Muhammad Ali. He just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Framed for killing his friend's girlfriend when he walked into the middle of a heist gone wrong. Desmond's confusion and bewildered fear convince the jury only to sentence him for 20 years, especially after new evidence comes to light.

Miles somehow ends up in the same prison as Al-Sayf.

Rumors spread about bartender that looks exactly like Altair with a mean punch and a supposedly "hot ass." Fresh meat that is up for grabs by any of the sexually deprived and frustrated inmates who are all too eager to get a taste.

* * *

><p>Desmond keeps to himself, hardly coming out of his cell to avoid trouble with the other prisoners. He's not scared really, he'd been to juvie before, but this was a whole different level of prison. He hates going to the cafeteria, because a million eyes would be staring at different parts of his body.<p>

Not to mention the catcalls, wolf whistles, and jeers. Desmond especially hated the cook that sneered at him and made crude gestures. It took all the patience he had not to hit the man square in the jaw. So far the only fight he'd gotten into was with his cell mate, something-Auditore-or-whatever. The man had been flirting with him which he'd ignored until something-Auditore-or-whatever copped a feel.

It couldn't really be counted as a fight, all he did was give the Italian a panicked punch to the jaw and stomach. The weirdo went down for the count.

As time went on though, more inmates began to bother him just as he feared they would. The men didn't get too close on account of that Italian cell mate and his exaggerated story. Desmond was glad for that, however taking a shower though was getting on the former bartender's nerves. A blonde inmate, who was quite friendly, told him not to drop his soap. Desmond honestly had no idea what the man was talking about, then a small person several stalls down was jumped when a bar of soap slid out of his hands and he made the mistake of bending to pick it up.

Desmond left the showers quickly after that.

* * *

><p>Malik hears the rumors, at first he assumes its just some stupid novice thinking he could survive in maximum security prison.<p>

He was wrong.

The veteran doesn't see Desmond at all the first several weeks, until long after the incident with Ezio and Leonardo's advice in the showers. Hell, all he has is a name. Desmond Miles. That's it. However Leonardo tells him that Desmond has a great skill in disappearing and cooping himself up in his cell.

Malik expects that Desmond is going to be forced to join everyone in the courtyards for physical activities. The guards are getting agitated and Yusuf Tazim, one of his trusted friends, informs him that they're getting tired of being nice and want to drag Desmond to toss him out to the dogs.

* * *

><p>"So this Desmond everyone is talking about is just a mouse afraid to come out his cage?" Malik asks Leonardo who is drawing on the wall. The Syrian is sitting on his cot, cell mates with the Italian.<p>

"Well I wouldn't say mouse _amico mio,_ more like a frightened sparrow." the blonde replied with an easy smile. One reason the inmate wasn't getting picked on was because he and Ezio were currently together, also because that smile and calm demeanor could become terrifying if you pushed him far enough.

Malik snorted "Yeah right, what's he in for?" toying with a small blade. A security man walked by, glancing at them and carrying on. Corruption does have it's perks, had it been one of the newer personnel they would've tried to confiscate it, which would've resulted in a fight and the said personnel being fired.

"Heist gone bad, killing his _amico's_ girlfriend. Though the way he acts suggest he was framed." Leonardo finished the doodle of a sunflower and began to draw a face of someone.

"And he looks like that oaf Altair?" the veteran laid down on his bed, boredom staring at the man.

"_Si_ the resemblance is striking but there are differences!" an excited sound leaves the blonde's throat as he begins to scribble and sketch on the wall. Malik pushes himself up and off the bed with a grunt to see who it is that's being drawn.

"And just a little over here...same scar, different eyes. More of a lithe build, lean muscle. _Viola_!" Leonardo scoots to the side. Malik's eyes sharpened.

Well hot dang in a bang! This motherfucker's more than easy on the eyes! Thanks to Leo's attention to detail and artistic prowess he now had a face to go with the name.

"Have I told you how much I love your photographic memory?" the war vet asked with a smirk.

"No but you don't want to say that around Ezio" Leonardo joked.

"I don't care what the novice thinks. I rule this place with an iron fist!" Malik huffed, moving back to his cot, putting away his blade under the pillow.

Abruptly a voice shouted out "Okay ladies lights out! Curfew is up! Beauty sleep ya' vermin!" the lights dimmed and gates locked as inmates wandered back to their cells.

One man walked by muttering to himself about stupid inmates and creepy people in general, Malik had shifted to his side as he lay on his bed, catching a glimpse of the stranger. He blinked as his mind processed who he just saw, he hadn't seen the boy's face but the build of his body and the apprehensive way he moved rang a bell in his head. The person walked down the hall and into his cell, his voice being heard when Ezio entered that cell as well.

"No stay on your side, I'll stay on mine. I don't want any trouble."

"_Si amico mio,_ good night little sparrow~"

Apparently the Auditore shared the same opinion about Desmond with Leonardo.

"I'll see you tomorrow Desmond" Malik whispered to himself "Whether you like it or not" he was going to have a little chat with La Volpe about getting Desmond to come out with everyone else to the court yards tomorrow.

* * *

><p>[End of Part 1]<p> 


	2. A Nod to Shawshank Redemption

_Here's [Part 2] guys. _

_I'm having too much fun with this. And it's un-beta'ed so expect some uh...issues?_

_and as for the flashback here's a small bit of info, altair still kept in touch with des through letters, however des left out some things in the letters so yeah...enjoy the chap_

_Allons-y!_

* * *

><p>Desmond should've known something was going to happen, he was stupid to think he could survive if he remained in his cell to avoid contact with other inmates. Especially since word was spreading about a certain man.<p>

It was the middle of the day, he hadn't gone to the cafeteria and refused to come out, much to the annoyance of the guards who eventually gave up and left him alone.

Desmond didn't care, because a certain someone was looking for him, someone by the name of Malik Al-Sayf. When Altair had gotten parole the first thing he'd done was tell the bartender about his time behind bars, at first Desmond had scoffed at the idea of corruption in the prison system but now that he thought about it...

He was freaking _terrified._

Unfortunately he remembered the conversation as if it happened yesterday

* * *

><p><em>"Oh hey Altair! So you're outta prison now?" Desmond asked as the man sat down, the day was slow and hot, few customers to keep him busy, but otherwise he was idle.<em>

_"Yes what's it to you?" The Syrian man slouched over the counter top of the bar. Desmond rolled his eyes and began cleaning glasses._

_"Just glad to see ya' is all, jeez wassa matta you Altair?" he huffed._

_"Racist. You said that on purpose." Altair slapped a $20 down on the counter "Hit me."_

_A smile, then a sudden hit to the shoulder._

_"Ow!" Few people looked lazily in the direction of the person who exclaimed his pain. "The fuck was that for?!"_

_"You said to hit you"_

_"Not literally"_

_Desmond smirked, Altair scowled for a bit before admitting "Okay you got me there and yeah maybe I should've had more to say instead of just waltzing in here as you put it."_

_"Correct." the bartender made him a Shirley Templar, a favorite among the regulars, but he made it a little more spicy because that's how Altair liked it._

_"So am I going to be blackmailed for that moment? Because honestly I hate doing that, I can walk out and come back in and start over?" Altair looked both irritated and sorry, which was a first._

_"What is there **to** say?" Desmond murmured, a worn and weary look in his eyes. Yeah sure they were related and Altair was the only one that knew he was a runaway, but the man had been gone for a long time. Enough for things and people to change. _

_"Well for starters I can tell you why I'm out a week earlier than I'm supposed to be." He smirked in his familiar way when Desmond turned his head and slightly tilted it, just like a bird. Which speaking of..."Quick question though, how's Kadar and that bird? What's it's name? MalAstairOnd?"_

_"Uh yeah that's the eagle's name, he mixed our names together. Mine, his brother, and your's. Kadar is fine..." Desmond didn't look at Altair for a moment, but he felt his relative's eyes on him with a stare that meant he wanted him to elaborate. "We're roommates, he moved into the guest-room."_

_Altair gave him a I-totally-win-and-I-know-it smile "Knew it! Made a bet with Benny before I left."_

_"Your parole officer?!" The bartender's brows furrowed. The Hell what a policemen do that for?_

_Desmond's relative coughed "Moving on! You want me to tell you why I'm out early or what?" he leaned on the counter with a serious look on his face._

_"Sure" Desmond quickly agreed._

* * *

><p>La Volpe a.k.a <em>The Fox<em>, a thief by trade, his career was what got him stuck in this prison in the first place after he was set up by his partner and Master Thief, Garrett.

At first it had been insulting, the ever evasive Fox finally caged. But he learned that as long as he resided in prison no real harm could come to him, besides he was the person everyone went to if they wanted something. He was the guy that could get you anything from cigarettes, posters of girls, and candy to small knives and art utensils (Yes Leonardo the Fox knows all about your impressive doodles on the walls.)

La Volpe , not just a thief, but also what he liked to call an associate of the one-armed bastard that ruled with a single fist. Whatever Malik needed, he got it. Or if it was a favor he'd do it. A true thief never went back on their word and he was more than happy to do what was asked of him, Al-Sayf did save the Fox on a number of occasions.

It was the least he could do.

However there was one **teeny** little problem. He had to go retrieve not an object, oh no, he had to fetch an **inmate of all things!**

"_Dios mio_ you want me to retrieve a person?!"

"Yes...yes I do Volpe." Malik answered with boredom in his tone. The man had been toying with Leonardo's carving knife that artist used to make chess pieces out of chunks of wood from the workshop.

"I can't bring someone into prison!"

Malik huffed "You're smarter than that _Fox."  
><em>

La Volpe felt insulted "You want one of the inmates...if I may ask what for?"

"You've heard the security complaining" Malik smiled slightly. He had an apparent humor for irritating them.

"Yes, and you want me to draw him out?" The thief scowled.

"Now you're thinking" the inmate smirked as he leaned against the bars of his cell "They're complaining and I want to meet the bird that hides in his cage."

"As usual payment will be yours after you get him into the courtyard" Malik said as an afterthought.

La Volpe had raised his brow at his associate's metaphor, but nonetheless he'd agreed. And now he was walking down the hall after fearlessly climbing the rails to get to the third floor.

The thief was irritated, he'd paid rather large security man to look the other way when he climbed, he muttered to himself as he drew near Desmond's cell.

"The things I do for a bit of coin, he won't even come out because he's too much of a _bambino!_" Of course La Volpe was mad. He still stuck to his word though and walked briskly down the hall. Why did this Desmond have to be cell mates with Ezio too? That man, to him, was stupid. Especially because the Auditore flirted with two security women.

* * *

><p>Desmond had heard someone walking to his cell, thinking it was another security person to come and bother him about going into the courtyard he groaned and rolled over in his cot to face the wall.<p>

The person's steps were soft, like Altair's, this puzzled him because nobody walked silently. He heard this person come right to the door of his cell.

"So this is the one that _bastardo_ wanted me to get? You must be Desmond _si_?"

The man rolled over in irritation, sitting up glaring. He thought it was something-Auditore-or-whatever again. But his eyes widened in surprise at the male leaning against the bars with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The inmate's face had features that were so fine he was almost pretty, a sense of intelligence and mischief were in his eyes that made him sly and mysterious.

La Volpe was amazed. Desmond's momentary glare mirrored Altair's, so the rumors of a bartender that looked exactly like him were true. This guy was the spitting image and with the same scar too.

His glare also reminded him of an irritated falcon.

But there were also differences, Altair was more built than Desmond with almost golden eyes and shaggier auburn hair although it was short like the man before him. Desmond's eyes were a dark hazel with flecks of gold here and there, exotic like his counterpart. Desmond was also smaller.

"What do you want?" He subtly hunched in on himself while sitting on his bed to look non-threatening to the inmate in his cell. His lithe body, to La Volpe, looked fragile like a small animal.

La Volpe's smirk was even wider, no wonder he was called a sparrow.

Pushing off the bars and waltzing into the room, the thief eyed Desmond, his attractiveness didn't go unnoticed but ogling him wasn't what he was here for.

"To cut to the point **Desmond**, you need to come out of your cage." He raised a hand when the man was about to object "I was sent by a client to escort you to the courtyards, or would you rather have the security drag you out?"

Now the former bartender was interested, he tilted his head and regarded the person before him. The inmate noticed the movement, Altair did the same thing, it was strange how the two people had bird like habits.

"Who is your client? And who are you?" Desmond seemed to relax, La Volpe wasn't going to injure him or...he shuddered...cop a major feel.

"Well I am not what slang names a **snitch**. Confidentiality and the like no?" He bowed with a floorish "I am simply called The _Fox. _A thief I was and thief I will always be, I can smuggle anything in here that you want, but there must be a fair trade. A business of sorts if you will"

"_Shawshank_ _Redemption_ much?" the Syrian asked with a raised brow and crossed arms.

He looked up at Desmond from his bow and straightened, ignoring the reference that he would later research. "We mustn't keep him waiting _si?"_

* * *

><p><em>"I'm not going to waste time with a whole exaggerated story of what actually happened, I basically got my ass handed to me by a passed friend." Altair sported a grimace on his face.<em>

_"Wow, what'd ya do? Piss him off?" Desmond shut up at the glare he got._

_"Yes actually, he read a letter that I got from you and read the one I was going to send back while I was dealing with a stupid Italian." He sounded annoyed at the end of the sentence._

_"So he was being nosy?"_

_"Yes but he had a right to know too." Altair sighed and ran head through his hair, he looked somber._

_Desmond frowned at that, **who** had a right to know? And know what? He didn't ask though because he had a feeling his questions, though unvoiced, would be answered._

* * *

><p>Desmond huffed and got off his bed, he hated how firm the mattress was and the how thin the sheets were. It was warm during the night since it was summer. That didn't mean he wasn't cold though.<p>

La Volpe exited the cell and walked a bit down the hall, stopping to wait for the prisoner. Desmond halted at the door and leaned to look out, body tense and coiled to run and disappear at the first sign of trouble, the place was empty though and he breathed out, hurrying to the thief's side.

As they made their way down the hall he couldn't help but ask "Why are you in here? You look way too smart for the police to catch you." He tensed when the man turned his head slightly and gazed at him from the corner of his eye.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked, Desmond was ready to make a run for it, to his relief the he was answered "A partner double crossed me. Astonishing really, I should've seen it coming, trusted him too much. Goes to show you have to look out for yourself." he walked faster "Let us make haste, he doesn't possess patience for those who fool around!"

Desmond kept pace with La Volpe, he felt bad for him. To be betrayed by someone you trust must hurt a lot, and he probably had trust issues as well.

Again he wondered who the inmate's client was as they made their way to the courtyards.

* * *

><p><em>"We got into an argument over his younger brother and how I knew him. We used to be together in the service before he lost his right arm while saving his brother."<em>

_Desmond winced, he'd heard small bits if the story from Kadar but not enough to piece together what he got from Altair on the occasions he felt like telling. He knew Altair had been in the service before and when he got the call about his cousin in the hospital along with Kadar, he'd panicked._

_"We didn't see eye to eye either" Altair said this with a chuckle._

_"That must'a been bad, I mean, seeing someone you hate in prison" Desmond cleaned a glass. Making another Shirley Templar for Altair._

_"Yeah, in the same cell too. We gave each other the cold shoulder, didn't speak unless we had too."_

_"That's just asking for trouble."_

_"We did own the place though, security didn't give two shits as long as we paid them. Being war vets gave us an edge."_

_"So what happened?"_

_Altair sighed._

* * *

><p>It was bright and hot outside, the courtyards were huge, with places were inmates could play basketball or lift weights. There was also shade were trees grew, tables were bolted to the dusty ground and concrete.<p>

Inmates were together in different groups like highschool cliques. When Desmond stepped out into the sun he squinted so his eyes could adjust.

La Volpe let his gaze slide over the men to find Malik. The man could blend in and go unnoticed unless he wanted you to see him. He felt Desmond move closer to his side and hide partially behind him, turning his head took look backwards he saw Desmond trying to shrink back.

The poor man felt all eyes on him, he hated it. It made his skin crawl, made him jumpy and on edge. He felt like a cornered animal, unable to escape and skittish.

The thief rolled his eyes and said "Stand straight, head high and don't look at them, focus on me _capise_?" Desmond slowly did as told and nodded. La Volpe felt a twinge of sympathy for him. The inmate was only 25 years old and definitely didn't belong here, he was suprised that he wasn't dead or mentally scarred yet.

They slowly made their way through the groups toward the large tree in the corner of the courtyard. As they passed through the catcalls began.

"So the _Fox _finally got the booty yeah?"

"Mm! Dat ass! The new one gonna be **my bitch** if nobody claim him!"

La Volpe's jaw clenched very slowly as kept his face straight. Desmond kept his eyes on the man and felt pure annoyance radiating off him, Desmond himself felt agitated by the slurs and insults thrown their way.

* * *

><p><em>"I walked into the cell and he looked like he was going to beat the shit out of me, he was holding the letters in his hand. His face was...it was calm but you could tell where was going to be trouble."<em>

_Desmond listened carefully. Leaning against the bar counter._

_"Everybody cleared out or locked their cells because when he's mad he won't hesitate to do serious damage, he killed an inmate twice his size once."_

_"How?" Desmond's brows furrowed in a worried look._

_"Broke his knee by stabbing it with a piece of glass and punching his Adam's apple, **hard."**  
><em>

_"Damn."_

* * *

><p>"Naaah man, better if we teach him a few tricks!"<p>

"Nigga you trippin' look were he goin' we ain't got nothin' on him less that guy say so!"

"What you mean? I just wanna taste, bet you his flavor be fruit cocktail!"

"I like my bitches like I like my beer, sun kissed skin and exotic!"

Desmond repressed the urge to run away, fighting his fight-or-flight response. When they got halfway through, he and La Volpe had to slow down since a security woman stood guard by the entrance to the workshop. She had blonde hair and blue eyes that just **dared **him to do something, her hand was on her holster, a can of mace and a taser gun as well as a sedative gun and pistol with a radio were equipped.

The two inmates walked passed her, La Volpe acknowledged the woman.

"Ms. Stillman"

"_Fox_"

"Another job?"

"_Si"_

_"_And how are you?"

"_Bene_, I hope you are well."

"No nonsense today as usual."

"_Bene_."

"Get on now and give **him** my regards." She nodded towards the tree "You stay out of trouble new guy." She said to Desmond. He nodded at her and followed La Volpe.

"Who was that?"

"Lucy Stillman, been here several months now, no one messes with her unless they want a taser to their _testicolos"_

Desmond raised a brow "That sounds painful"

"But it works no?"

"I guess..."

* * *

><p><em>Altair took a few moments to drink his poison. Finally he cleared his throat. "So he started asking questions, ones I didn't really want to answer because he was pissed off already and I knew he was going to lash out sooner or later"<em>

_"He lost his patience?"_

_"Yes, most of the time when I did something that made him want to punch my face, which was **all** the time—" _

_He rolled his eyes and huffed "—because anything I did just rubbed him the wrong way, he'd just call me a stupid **novice** and walked away."_

_"So he held it in and exploded on you." Desmond summarized._

_"Ugh, also the fact that I was getting out early and he wasn't, the way he saw it, I was robbing him of his brother and his life. Which if you think about it I kind of...did" Altair's eyes looked sad._

* * *

><p>Desmond let out an indignant sound of terror when he felt a hand grope his behind.<p>

"Nice arse ya' got there kid~" a man with a rather cockney voice said.

Desmond couldn't stop himself from reacting this time, lifting his lip into a snarl he snapped his head around in a 180 so fast you'd think he'd have to be treated for whiplash.

He turned and glared, a faint hiss leaving his throat like an aggravated eagle. He'd learned that from living with Altair, the man rubbed off on him too much.

A gasp left the groper's throat and he recoiled his hand. "**Jaysus**!"

"Hickey leave that boy alone." A British accented voice admonished him.

"Sorry 'aytham...but jaysus! Did ya' see that look on his face? I thought he was Altair for a moment."

Haytham pinched the bridge of his noise and breathed out in a sigh, the behavior of a weary parent scolding an unruly kid. "Quit making a fool of yourself and leave him be. I am sorry for his acting out, give my thanks for last week to your client when you see him."

"Of course _signore_ Kenway" La Volpe smirked and headed for the tree, Desmond stuck closely to him now.

"Don't do that again little sparrow, that reaction could've ended you and resulted in a bad deal with my customer." The thief's voice was nonchalant but an under current of a threatening tone was felt by Desmond.

As they drew closer he noticed a figure standing against the tree with his hand in his pocket.

He also had one arm. Other people were sitting at tables around the tree, Desmond's intuition told him these people where with him.

"Yusuf Tazim, Shaun Hastings, Ezio Auditore, Leonardo Da Vinci, Edward Kenway, Arno Dorian, Rebecca Crane, and Connor Kenway." La Volpe listed off their names while they approached.

* * *

><p><em>"There were things I shouldn't have said and suggesting that at least I didn't have a problem with <strong>shrinks<strong> really set him off."_

_"He needed help?"_

_"Bad episode of PTSD is what landed him 25 years in jail."_

_"Oh..."_

_"Didn't really think about my words 'till Benny came and got me out the clinic."_

_"Hypocrite."_

_"What?"_

_"You're a hypocrite, before you got sent off to prison you had problems with seeing a therapist"_

_"Hey! I did go to therapy—"_

_A dull expression from the bartender was what he got in response._

_"—eventually..."_

_Desmond was the only one who could make Altair feel like a tiny child with the look he gave him._

* * *

><p>"Ah my client! It is good to see you!" La Volpe exlcaimed as he approached the figure.<p>

"Took you long enough." The man said.

"_Mi dispiace, _I am wounded by your judgement _amico" _The thief put a hand over his heart in a dramatic manner. The man huffed and rolled his eyes as they drew closer.

"Desmond Miles correct?" He asked.

Desmond frowned "Yeah?"

This guy was too familiar.

La Volpe's sly smile spread across his face "Introductions are in order, this is my client, he was just **dying** to meet you."

Said client's clique observed Desmond like he was something new and exciting.

"Nice one _Fox" _ The only girl in the group, Rebecca, said with a burst of laughter.

"_Grazie_~"

* * *

><p><em>"We threw some punches and shit, but he was fast. Obviously he learned to compensate for his missing arm and it gave him an advantage."<em>

_Desmond winced at that in sympathy for his relative. "He really took you down didn't he?"_

_"Gave me a black eye, dislocated shoulder, and concussion from a hit to the head. Also got my nose broken because his punch is like yours, plus he had momentum and much more strength behind it" _

_"What does he look like? If I ever end up in jail I'll stay away from him."_

_Altair just sat there with an expression of why-do-you-want-to-know? Desmond merely shrugged. The Syrian decided to humor him._

_"You already know he has missing a left arm—"_

* * *

><p>The inmate spotted the empty folded sleeve and averted his eyes to look at the man's face.<p>

His brows furrowed "Do I know you?"

* * *

><p><em>"—He also is taller than you and his eyes are different shades of storm grey."<em>

_Desmond tossed a rag at his face when Altair gave him a smug look after he mentioned the guy's height._

* * *

><p>"I've never seen you before so no. You don't know me." The voice had a hardness to it. Clipped and to the point like a military man.<p>

Desmond saw his eyes, the feeling of knowing him grew stronger.

"I think I've heard of you somewhere."

* * *

><p><em>"The guy will call you a novice if you're being an idiot or if you have a habit that he deems stupid."<em>

_"Really?"_

_"Yes he did that to me all the time!"_

_Desmond snorted in amusement._

* * *

><p>"I don't think any kind of <strong>novice,<strong> that hides in his cell, would've heard of me." The remark stung.

The former bartender felt judged already.

"So you know my name, but I don't know yours. What do you want with me?" He asked nervously. Danger and power came rolling off the stranger in waves.

* * *

><p><em>"Also a bit of a goatee. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't have one now." Altair played with the shot of Shirley Templar. <em>

_"I can imagine you growing a mustache, curly and western." Desmond sniggered._

_"Seriously Des' why did you have to put that ridiculous image in my head?"_

_"Kadar and I talked about it, since razors aren't allowed in jail. We imagined you coming home with a face like Chuck Norris!"_

_Altair face palmed._

* * *

><p>Desmond recognized the hair on the man's face and he instinctively hunched in on himself to look weak and forgettable.<p>

"Why should I tell you?"

"Just a question is all..."

"Then I guess I should enlighten you to who I am" The inmate stepped out into the light and the former bartender paled.

* * *

><p>"<em>Basically just watch out for a man named—"<em>

* * *

><p>"Pleasure to meet you, my name is—"<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Malik—<em>

* * *

><p>"Malik—"<p>

Dread weighed heavily in Desmond's gut.

* * *

><p><em>"—Al-Sayf"<em>

* * *

><p>"—<strong>Al-Sayf<strong>" Desmond finished the man's name for him in a whisper.

Malik smirked. "Correct"

* * *

><p><em>[End of Part 2]<em>

_CLIFF HANGER BITCHES THATS ALL YOU GET FOR TODAY ((srry I'm just really hyper and just about had a brain aneurism from forcing this out))_

_TELL ME WAT YALL THINK_

_OMFG THIS CHAPTER WAS LONGER THAN I WANTED IT TO BE_

_PIRATE WEASEL's DESCRIPTION OF LA VOLPE IS MIGTY APPRECIATED THANK YYEEEWWW_

_I DID THINK OF MAKING THE THIEF A SECURITY MAN BUT HOT DANG IN A BANG HE ALREADY IS A SMEXY BAMF._

_VJNKDECNJKFNWEJMCNESMJ_

_David Tennant and the TARDIS are calling my name! Doctor Who binge marathon awayyyyy_


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